The Line
by Winter's Realm
Summary: Nobody wins a war. If only the story could have had a different ending… I never wanted it this way. (Ahsoka Tano's POV, post Order 66. Slight AU.)


**The Line**

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**Summary: **Nobody wins a war. If only the story could have had a different ending… I never wanted it this way. (Ahsoka Tano's POV post Order 66. Slight AU.)

**Genres:** Drama/Angst

**Characters:** Ahsoka T.

**A/N:** A bit of AU in places, and possible OOCness in others. That, and the timeline may be a little wobbly. Proceed at your own risk! I had a few doubts about posting this…. It's different to what I usually write. So, if you manage to make it to the end (you brave soul! ;-) ) any constructive criticism will be much appreciated!

**I don't own Star Wars. **

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The rise of the Empire.

That was what the media called it; that was how the Empire wanted us to view it. A new age composed of security and unity- the sort, they declared, that could only be achieved with power and leadership. There would be peace. There would be protection. The Empire was powerful enough to end the chaos of the war, so surely they could be trusted to lead the galaxy into a new age.

The '_rise of the Empire'_.

Really, what they _meant_ was 'game over' for the Republic. Actually, it was 'game over' for the Separatists, as well. Both sides lost the Clone Wars. The only conclusion to the question of which side would triumph was that neither would.

_(Nobody wins a war.)_

I refuse to say that the Empire 'rose', though. 'Rise' implies the birth of something beautiful- such as _freedom_- and despite the Emperor's argument to the contrary, I could never see it that way. The Jedi were slaughtered by the very armies they once led. Both the Republic and the Separatists were manipulated into a war which never should have been waged. Peace was shattered. Entire worlds were shredded apart as innocents died in the name of this new 'protection' and 'power'. Individuals who cried out for change were silenced; so nothing grew. It did not take a Jedi to see that the Galaxy was spiralling out of control; a path of destruction which would only lead to pain and darkness.

To me, if I had to give it a name… it would always be the Fall of Anakin Skywalker.

(_That name is dangerous, now. It holds too many ties to the past. It echoes of too many distant dreams…_)

The Chosen One.

My old Master.

_(And it was once said that he would _destroy_ the Sith, not join them.)_

Having left the Jedi Order a year or so prior, I was on Onderon when Order 66 was executed. Lux Bonteri had offered me residence there after hearing of my departure from the Jedi Order. For the last year of the Clone Wars, I commanded Onderon's army. Just because I wasn't a Jedi anymore didn't mean that I would stop fighting for what I believed in.

But my position as Commander abruptly ended with the execution of Order 66. The entire galaxy was thrown into confusion when the war suddenly stopped and the Empire arose, claiming that the Jedi were traitors.

I saw everything on the Holonet. Several weeks after 'the purge'- well, that was what the Empire called it- the cameras in the Temple were recovered, and one rainy evening, I watched in utter horror as the place I once called home was destroyed.

In front of my eyes, clone troopers tore through sacred spaces, turning the place of peace into a battle ground. Younglings were killed. Murdered; for nothing.

(And what was worse was that I recognised some of those troopers. And not one of them seemed to care about the people they were killing. They were as expressionless as their lifeless victims.)

I saw Master Plo's fighter shot down in flames, knowing (and hating the way that I instinctively knew; I'd had too much experience on the battlefield) without the conformation of the news reporter, that the crash was fatal.

Plo Koon was dead.

And that was just one death out of the many hundreds to come.

Master Windu died.

(_And Master Secura, and Master Unduli, and Master Fisto and…)_

Even after all my battlefield experience, that night, while I was locked in my room, with tears silently running down my face, I saw more death than ever before. Every Jedi that died was another blow to my crumbling heart. Yes, I had left the Order; yes, it all but betrayed me, but I had never wished its destruction. For all its flaws and mistakes, it had managed to do some good in this lost galaxy.

After the Jedi death toll came the state funeral of Padme Amidala. Her body was laid out for all to see, and I had shivered at the complete lack of dignity her corpse was treated with.

It was _her _body, for fek's sake. Not some display to be marched down the main street, or filmed and shown all over the Holonet.

_Sickening. _

But, like a hypocrite, I had kept watching the funeral, anyway. (_Can you betray the dead?)._ It would be the last time I saw her.

To me, she seemed cold. Not cold from death's chilling touch, but more frozen with the internal pain that comes from being destroyed by the one you loved.

Even in death, she may have still looked regal and composed, but I knew she was broken inside.

(_Was the public parade what she really wanted?_)

I'll never know.

But the worst part of that night was when I saw the face of the person who had led the Clones to the Temple.

Yellow eyes burning with bitterness and hatred, Anakin Skywalker turned to face the camera, his lightsaber blade still humming from where it had just killed a youngling seconds ago. He made no move to hide what he had done.

In one short year after my departure from the Jedi Order, the Hero with No Fear had gone to the Darkside.

I couldn't stand by and watch the galaxy fall apart at the hands of the one I once called 'Master'. I couldn't, and I _didn't_. Anakin once meant so much to me… and parts of him- the good parts, like his courage and determination- always would. The worst part about leaving the Jedi Order had been leaving him behind. So now… now that he was a killer (a _Sith Lord!)_, I didn't really know what to do. But I knew I had to do _something._

Everything we had once fought for –_together; Master and Padawan_- was gone.

And maybe I could have lived with that; could have accepted that we lost the war, if only the one who had fought against oppression with the strongest heart _wasn't_ the same person who let liberty die. If only Skyguy hadn't cost us the war; hadn't cost us everything.

Anakin Skywalker hadn't been just the Republic's hero. He was once mine, too.

With a numbed heart, I found myself automatically following his teachings. He'd always told me to keep on fighting for what I believed in. To do what was right, _no matter what_. So that was what I did. It was a way of coming to terms with what had happened; that the man I had trusted and admired with all my heart was little more than a traitor to the galaxy.

Lux and I formed a small rebellion. Nowhere near large enough or strong enough to destroy the Empire, but persistent enough to make a difference. We rescued innocent prisoners on death row. We sabotaged military property. For twenty or so years, we did everything we could to fight for a future we believed in. Liberty had been lost, but to us, it had not died.

But as always, there was a price to pay. Our group eventually came to the attention of the Emperor himself, and we quickly found ourselves the targets of a galaxy wide man-hunt.

Those times were hard.

With every loss to our little rebellion, we found ourselves losing hope. Throughout it all, I was grateful to have Lux by my side. He was so supportive…so hopeful. Surrounded by darkness, hope is like candlelight, and for several long years, that was all I clung to. We got married- I still have the ring on my finger- and ironically, in the midst of that darkness, I lived what was probably the best fourteen months of my life.

(I _lived_…)

Sometime around that point, Lux had travelled to Alderaan, to meet with a leader from another Rebel Alliance. My husband was to discuss the possibility of our two forces joining up.

There were no negotiations. The Empire had a new weapon…. And once again, I found myself sitting alone in my room, watching the death of a loved one on the Holonet and crying silently. The last time I had done so- the 'Jedi Purge'- had involved blood and combat and close up camera shots of the victims dying. This time was different, but no less surreal. There was one beam of light, then a single, massive explosion, and Lux (along with billions of others) was gone.

Just, _gone_.

That was how it ended. With a silent detonation and half a galaxy between us.

(And Anakin Skywalker was the one who made it that way)

I didn't want to think of him as Vader. I suppose I was scared that when I did so, it would acknowledge that Anakin had died, and with the death of the Chosen One there was no hope for the galaxy. But that logic was a double edged sword; it meant the Master I admired was the one who destroyed the Jedi and sold the entire Galaxy into darkness.

I didn't want to think of this monster as Anakin Skywalker, either.

(_Soon, I didn't know what to think. The line between Anakin and Vader was too blurred to identify, but too sharp to touch.)_

Despite my efforts, our (I would always think of it as 'our'- it never would have survived for this long without Lux) Rebellion fell apart two months later; targeted members dying in various attacks as the Empire finally decided they'd had enough. They weren't going to give us the opportunity to join the other Rebellion.

But oddly enough, they never sent anybody after _me_.

I used to hope that was a sign that Anakin Skywalker was not dead- that he'd recognised me, felt a touch of compassion for the child he had once trained, and left me to find my own way in the dark world he had created.

_(I wasn't a child anymore)_

More than likely, though, I was just overlooked and _incredibly_ lucky.

After Lux's death and the fall of our Rebellion, I found myself with nothing. Everything had just become so different; it was as if I had woken in a different universe on the day of Skywalker's fall.

_(I wanted to go back, but that was impossible_)

There was nothing left to fight for. The Rebel Alliance would fight Vader, but I wouldn't join them. It was not my place to. Just living every day had become a struggle; I couldn't be like the heroes in holomovies and fight for others while concealing a broken heart. I was too busy fighting for myself.

(_Fighting myself)_

Lux was gone.

Anakin was gone.

Padme was gone.

Riyo Chuchi was gone.

Master Plo was gone.

Master Kenobi and Master Yoda survived, but I never sought them out. It was too dangerous- with his power, Vader may have been able to locate us, and completely erase the Jedi Order.

_(Perhaps we should have taken that risk?)_

With my spirit shattered, I took up my place as a citizen of the Empire. Cantina work didn't pay well, but at least it kept food on the table. For several more years, I went through the motions of living. _Wake up. (Forget the past). Go to work. (Forget the past). Come home. (Forget the past). Sleep. (Forget the past). Repeat. (Forget). _

Initially, I was ashamed. This was not the fate the younger Ahsoka Tano had pictured-or worked so hard for. Then again, with the exception of Sidious, I don't think this future was what _anyone_ had imagined.

Eventually, that shame turned to guilt- I knew I should be doing more. But how could one broken, ex-Jedi Padawan serve in the fight for freedom?

Guilt turned into nothingness.

Now, it has been two years since Lux's death, and Vader still rules the galaxy with Sidious. The Rebellion is still struggling against them. Nothing has changed.

_("…The evidence seems clear, Ahsoka. Nothing will __**ever **__change…")_

I lie in a hospital bed; my body connected to a variety of coloured tubes and covered with blankets that smell of bleach. There was a fight at the cantina. Some drunken Rodian had attempted to kidnap a young girl, and unable to just stand back and do nothing, I'd stepped in.

Unfortunately for me, the Rodian had several well-armed buddies, and my fighting skills were rusty.

At least the girl got away.

The doctors aren't expecting me to make it through the night. And to be honest, I'm not really worried by that. Maybe death isn't merciful or forgiving, but life has become cheap. I want to escape.

(You must understand, I feel guilty for thinking that. I'm not a quitter. I'm realistic... You _do_ understand that, right?)

This fallen galaxy isn't what I wanted.

This broken soul isn't who I was meant to be.

_(And there are no second chances)_

As I close my eyes, I see Padme's chocolate brown hair spread about her corpse, littered with pale pink cherry blossoms. (Every year on Naboo, those flowers only blossom for one week… and somehow Padme's death had coincided with their bloom. The petals looked like tears.). Her hands clasp a small, carved piece of wood. Her eyes are shut. Even after all these years, I've never forgotten that image. Of all of us, she was the one who suffered the most.

Naboo's strong-willed Queen died of a broken heart.

(_And I'm so sorry it ended that way_)

I see flames billowing from Master Plo's fighter, lodged in a building. The Kel-Dor who found me; whom I considered to be my father, died at the hands of the men he led into battle.

(_As a peace-keeper,_ _he didn't deserve to die defenceless_)

I see Anakin's hollowed, haunted yellow eyes, glowing from within the cowl of a black hood… or are they Vader's eyes?

(_The line between them was always too blurred to tell_)

I see Lux's face…. Brown hair tousled, eyes alight in a smile.

I think of the ring still on my finger.

'_Til death, us do part. _

(_You know I'll always love you. Always._)

I see-

I see-

(_Memories_)

Sight has gone; thought takes over.

Will there ever be peace? Or will Anakin die a fallen man; a traitor to all he once held dear- myself included?

One day, I hope someone will take off that mask, look into his eyes, and find good there. (There _must_ be good there)

One day, I hope the Empire falls. But I already know that day won't be in my lifetime.

(Because now, twilight is upon me, and soon night must fall. That is the way of things. That is the way of the Force.)

So many dreams were never achieved… For me, there could be no happy ending. I would just have to be grateful for this merciful chance to escape before things got _worse_.

_I never wanted it this way_.

**(**_**Nobody did.**_**)**

The screen next to my bed flat-lines, and somewhere in the once silent hospital room, an alarm cries (for me); yet I hear nothing.

After a lifetime of pain and confusion, I'm no longer listening.

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**Thanks for reading!**


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